Frank Merrill stepped through the swing doors of the London and Western Counties Bank with a light heart and a smile in his eyes, and went straight to his chief's office.
"I shall want you to let me go out this afternoon for an hour," he said.
Brandon looked up wearily. He had not been without his sleepless moments, and the strain of the forgery and the audit which followed was telling heavily upon him. He nodded a silent agreement, and Frank went back to his desk, humming a tune.
He had every reason to be happy, for in his pocket was the special license which, for a consideration, had been granted to him, and which empowered him to marry the girl whose amazing telegram had arrived that morning while he was at breakfast. It had contained only four words:
Marry you to-day. May.
He could not guess what extraordinary circumstances had induced her to take so definite a view, but he was a very contented and happy young man.
She was to arrive in London soon after twelve, and he had arranged to meet her at the station and take her to lunch. Perhaps then she would explain the reason for her action. He numbered among his acquaintances the rector of a suburban church, who had agreed to perform the ceremony and to provide the necessary witnesses.
It was a beaming young man that met the girl, but the smile left his face when he saw how wan and haggard she was.
"Take me somewhere," she said quickly.
"Are you ill?" he asked anxiously.